


Ninth Floor

by technicolortidepods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolortidepods/pseuds/technicolortidepods
Summary: Fresh out of university with no friends, no prospects, and no place to call home, Beauregard receives a lucky text from her former college roommate that changes her life.A modern au/human au that follows the mighty nein as the go from a collection of strangers all inhabiting the ninth floor of an apartment complex, to a tentative group of friends, to the family they didn't know they needed.Currently on hiatus until inspiration hits again.





	1. welcome to the ninth floor

**Author's Note:**

> eventually, this will turn into the biggest beauyasha (and probably fjorester) slowburn, but you gotta start somewhere.

Home was a funny concept for Beauregard. Mostly because it was something she didn’t think she ever really had.

Kamordah didn’t count. Getting out of there was probably the best thing that ever happened to her. Beau couldn’t imagine what kind of stuck up, shallow person she would be if she had stayed a minute longer. It may be her hometown, but no way would it ever be her home.

To be fair though, two weeks worth of couch surfing wasn’t exactly much better.

Beauregard was fresh out of university, somehow managing to have actually graduated, with a degree in history and no idea what to do next. She had no close friends that weren’t currently in jail or halfway across the country, no job, and absolutely no intention to reach out to her family for help. There were a lot of levels Beau was willing to stoop to, but swallowing down her pride and twenty-two years worth of daddy issues to ask her family for money wasn’t fucking one of them. Crashing with close-ish acquaintances, somewhat amicable exes, and straight up criminal contacts was a decidedly better option.

It was day one of the three day time limit Vorsa had given her to get her shit together and get out when Beau received a text that changed everything.

> **Jester:** hiiii beau!! soooo i know this is like suuuper random and we havent rly talked in a while but my friend fjord and i are looking for another flatmate cause u know our landlord is a total dick and rent is soooo expensive and technically we are behind in our payments and he could evict us technically so pls let me know if u are interested!!

And, of course, the inevitable follow up text that came seconds later:

> **Jester:** it would totally be a temporary thing u know if thats what u want but ud be like rly helping us out so pls pls respond soon!!! fjords tried to find people too but hasnt had much luck cause they all live on the coast u know so like i rly hope u can move in and we can be roommates again!!

And the one after that:

> **Jester:** also i dont want to be homeless

And after that:

> **Jester:** but u know no pressure or anything

Beau couldn’t help but smile and let a big, audible sigh of relief. Of all the crazy twists and turns life could have thrown at her, she was glad this random text from her freshman year college roommate was one of them. She only knew so many people who would be willing to let her mooch off them for a few days or so and was quickly running out of options. Vorsa had totally pulled through, but she was moving up north in about week and her landlord already had another tenant lined up after her. The tiny apartment was mostly all packed up by now, except for some bigger furniture things like that lumpy couch Beau had been sleeping on for the past two nights. It was uncomfortable enough for the streets of Zadash to almost look appealing in comparison. Almost.

Immediately, she texted Jester back saying she was definitely interested and just so happened to be needing a place to crash for the foreseeable future. Sure, it had been a few years since she and Jester had last spoke and she had no idea who Fjord was, but Beau had a good three days before she was kicked out of the exotic dancer she had a week long fling with earlier this year’s apartment and no other options lined up. Maybe she was stubborn and generally untrusting of everyone, but she wasn’t an idiot. This was too good an opportunity to fuck up. Beau had to make this work.

Plans were made for the three of them to meet up tomorrow morning for coffee at the pastry shop in town to get to know one another better and see if living together would work out. Based on how quickly everything fell into place, there seemed to be just as much urgency on Jester and Fjord’s side as there was on Beau’s. It made her feel the tiniest bit better knowing she wasn’t the only one out there struggling to get everything together.

Beau spent the rest of the day was spent pounding the pavement looking for marginally honest work. It proved to be much harder than she had anticipated. The near summer heat hung in the air, making the entire city sweaty and sluggish. One would think that as the second biggest city in the empire, Zadash would be bursting with opportunities, but after a four year long front row seat to the underbelly beneath the city's’ gilded charm, Beau knew better. Still though, she had no idea so many jobs needed some kind of certification to be able to do. The ones that didn’t paid next to nothing or were seedy as hell. Beau kicked herself mentally for not taking advantage of all the internships and pre-professional programs university had offered. Probably would have come in handy right about now.

The subway ride back to Vorsa’s was uneventful as ever. A woman dressed in an expensive looking pencil skirt and blouse with decorative brass buttons tapped away on her phone. A homeless man in a big brown coat dozed off against the wall. Another woman with a large pair of circular glasses was nose deep in a book. Beau spent the entire trip looking over the business cards and flyers she had collected and brainstorming a list of people who could maybe hook her up with some kind of work. She still had a good amount of money she had made off her dad’s business saved up, but that wouldn’t last forever. Especially if she had to start paying rent soon.

Professor Xenoth fucking hated her, that was a hard no.

There was Kara, her weed girl who she was on pretty good terms with. Didn’t she mention once that she worked at a bar or something? That was maybe a possibility.

Dolan probably could have gotten her some desk job at the hospital he used to run had he not gone bankrupt after that malpractice charge, which for the record, was total bullshit.

Really, the one respectable adult in the city that wasn’t a complete dirtbag and still managed to be pretty successful was Dairon. She had been the only professor in college that Beau had any respect for whatsoever. She liked the woman a lot, actually. Beau even did a semester of work with Dairon as a research assistant, which she never thought she would ever had the patience or intrest to do. If anyone could give Beau a hand, it would be her. Jumping on the idea before she could find a reason to let it go, Beau began drafting an email to her former professor on her phone, almost missing her stop in the rush to get it down. She managed to put together a pretty decent correspondence by the end of the night, sending it sometime after dinner but before Vorsa got back.

 _See, being a functioning adult isn’t so hard after all_ , Beau told herself before bed. _You’re like halfway to almost having a job and one successful coffee date away from having like a third of an apartment. That’s pretty fucking good_.

Sleep came a little easier on Vorsa’s lumpy couch that night.

\---

There were few things Beauregard hated more than waking up early. Back in college, if her schedule had any classes before 10:00 am, absence was pretty much guaranteed. The best thing about have absolutely no responsibility was staying up and getting up as late as her heart desired. This morning, however, was different.

The sun wasn’t nearly high enough in the sky when Beau’s alarm blared, jolting her awake. Jester had scheduled their little meet up promptly at ten at the Meal Hearth, a pastry shop in the decidedly nicer part of the city and about as far from Vorsa’s apartment as you could get. Beau had to wake up that much earlier to shower, make herself look as decent as possible, and catch an uptown train across the city. The whole thing was decidedly less than ideal.

Usually, Beau was perfectly comfortable rolling out of bed and going about her day with unbrushed hair and still wearing the little bit of eye makeup she had put on the night before, but not today. As lazy as she was, Beau knew it was important to make a good impression. However desperate Jester sounded over text was no guarantee of anything. She had to at least look like she could be a first choice, even if she wasn’t.

By 9:30, Beauregard was on an uptown subway having showered and wearing a decent enough coat of eyeliner and the cleanest pair of yoga pants she owned. It was all a very uncommon occurrence. She sent a short text to Jester letting her know she was on her way and leaned back in the lucky seat she was able to snag. The car was fairly crowded with business types making their way to work and Beau closed her eyes, letting the rocking of the subway and quiet murmur of conversation relax her. She kept her ears open for the automated voice that read off the approaching destinations and prepared to exit the train at the sound of, _Next stop: The Silken Terrace_.

It would much, much later when Beau would come to realize her jade bracelet was missing. But that’s not important right now.

Hopping off the subway, Beauregard made her way up to the inner district of the Silken Terrace. It was without a doubt the nicest part of the city, with parks and courtyards full of verdant foliage, fancy shopping outlets off of cobblestone roads, and beautiful town houses closer in. The Meal Hearth was thankfully located fairly close by, near the edge of the district where the commuting elite would stop by for a cup of coffee or a croissant or whatever before work. It was a total rip off as far as Beau was concerned, but less so than eighty percent of the stores in the district, so it was doable.

She walked through the door and it took her about three seconds before her eyes landed on a familiar head of blue hair. Beau felt a wave of relief. At least one thing had stayed the same. Beau must have been just as easy to identify because as soon as she spotted Jester across the cafe, a familiar squeal came from her direcion and Jester practically leapt out of her seat to flag her over.

“Beau!” Jester called, “Beau, we’re over here!”

Beau waved back and made her way through the line of people waiting at the counter towards the back of the cafe where the seating was. Once she reached Jester’s table, she was immediately pulled into an enormous hug. Huh. That’s another thing that had stayed the same too.

“Oh, Beau, it’s so, so good to see you,” Jester said before releasing her. “It’s been a really long time, I’m so, so, happy you came to meet with us. Ooh, you got a new piercing, it looks really good!”

Jester looked pretty much the same as she had three years ago. Her dyed blue hair was still cut in a messy bob and she still wore those same silver, dangly earrings she always did. Her tan skin was still covered head to toe in freckles. Even that old, ratty green hoodie she had always worn was still thrown over her shoulders, clashing somewhat with the rest of her girly style. Her collection of rings had grown, and there was no longer a ribbon in her hair, but other than that, not much had changed.

“It’s good to see you too, Jester,” Beau told her with a smile. Seeing the consistency of Jester’s character was oddly yet incredibly comforting. “And thanks, uh, I got it last year, I think.” She said, tapping at the two golden beads that framed her left eyebrow. It surprisingly hadn’t hurt as much as everyone had said.

“Oh my gosh, that’s super cool.” Jester said with sparkling eyes so blue they were almost violet. “Wait, Beau, this is Fjord, he’s super cool and handsome and we’re like, best friends. Fjord, this is Beau, we were roommates in college freshman year, and she’s really cool too and we had a pet dog together before campus security found out and we had to give him to my mom.”

Beau hadn’t noticed the man sitting next to Jester in the booth until Jester had pointed him out. He was tall, with dark skin and warm, honey colored eyes. He looked a good few years older than Jester; his black hair was buzzed short on the sides and he had a stripe of premature gray at the top were it was kept longer. Beau was about as gay as they come, but even she had to admit that Fjord was probably one of the most attractive guys she had ever seen. Jester hadn’t been lying at all.

“Pleasure to meet you, Beau,” Fjord said, giving her a closed mouthed smile and standing up to shake her hand across the table. His voice was low and he spoke with an accent Beau couldn’t identify as anything more than not from around here. “We’re both very glad you agreed to meet with us on such short notice.”

“Yeah, no, it’s all good, I had been kinda hoping for something like this to go down on such short notice too.” She replied. “Vors-- well, the person I’d been crashing with is moving by the end of the week so she needs me out of her place in the next day or so. This kinda couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Fjord said, as the three sat back down. “Please, uh, help yourself to some of these here bear claws, gods know Jester’ll just get herself sick if she polishes ‘em off herself.” He motioned at large plate of pastries Jester was already digging into.

“Don’t get too excited, Beau,” Jester said somewhat dejectedly around a mouthful of food. “They didn’t even put cinnamon on them so they aren’t as good.”

Beau chuckled good naturedly, taking a bear claw off the plate. “You still eating nothing but pastries?”

“It’s pretty great.” Jester said, a little dreamily, nodding her head up and down.

Much to Beau’s delight, their little “getting to know you” thing went surprisingly well. Beau wasn’t a people person by anyone’s standards, but it was easy to fall back into old conversation patterns with Jester. It reminded why they had become just close friends freshman year and wonder how they ever drifted apart in the first place. Beau found herself getting along quite well with Fjord too. He was a cool, easy going kind of guy and it turned out they had a lot to talk and agree about. The trio had been talking for almost an hour before Jester finally said what they all had been thinking to some degree or another.

“Soooo, how soon do you think you can you move in?”

Beau took a sip of the tea she had gotten up to order in the intermediary, trying to play it cool despite the way her heart leapt with excitement. “Gimme the address, I can probably get my shit there by tonight. Dinnertime at the earliest.”

Fjord looked at her, then at Jester to exchange a nonverbal word, and then back at her.

“Sounds like a deal to me. Jessie and I’ll order take out to celebrate.” He gave another smile and clinked his cup against her own, as a cheers. “How do you feel about Zemnian?”

\---

That evening, Beauregard packed up her two duffle bags and backpack full of clothes, essentials, and a small number of personal items, before calling herself a cab. She left a short thank you note and a small amount of cash in an envelope on the sofa. Vorsa had totally helped her out. It was the least Beau could do for her, really.

The cab ride to Fjord and Jester’s-- no, Fjord, Jester, and _her_ apartment was full of quiet excitement. According to the address Jester had texted her, it was located on the west side of Zadash, between the West Outersteads and the Pentamarket, giving Beau a long enough ride to ruminate on this new chapter in her life. She got fucking lucky, that’s for damn sure. Between the cash she stole from her folks and the bit she had saved up throughout college, she had enough to cover her share of the first month of rent and pay for the residual of whatever Fjord and Jester owed their landlord. She’d have to get a job soon to pay for groceries and shit, but Beau tried not to think about that for now. Instead, she rolled down the backseat window of the cab, stuck out her arm, and felt the rush of the warm, summery wind against her skin.

Eventually, the driver barked at her to “Keep her body in the vehicle, ma’am,” but Beau was so elated, she didn’t even give him the finger or throw back a comment about how he couldn’t tell her what to do. She just gave him a two finger salute through the rearview mirror, put her hand back in the car, and watched the nighttime lights of the city blink past her as she made her way to her new place.

The apartment building was probably nicer than most homes on the Outersteads, but in a subtle way. It was pretty tall, probably over ten floors worth of housing, and looked to have some sort of parking garage out back. Not that Beau had any use for it or anything. There were some concrete steps leading up to the front door, which had some potted shrubbery for character. A set of terraces decorated one of the sides and the black railing of a fire escape system snaked around the entire building. The neighborhood was a little loud maybe, being so close to the Pentamarket, but Beau didn’t mind one bit. The laughter of people making their way to a bar called The Leaky Tap down the street, the groan of a motorcycle with a bumper sticker that read “My Son is an Honors Student at the Soltryce Academy” as it sped away, the sound of street peddlers packing up their wares to sell another day, it was all so unlike the erie quiet of Kamordah. It was pretty damn close to perfect.

Beau paid the taxi driver and took the elevator all the way up to the ninth floor of the building, luggage in hand. Jester and Fjord were waiting at the door of apartment 9B with open arms and matching pleasant expressions. She dropped her luggage as Jester attacked her with a bear hug and wrapped her arms around her friend in turn.

“Beauuuu!” Jester squealed, shaking Beau back and forth a little as she held her tight. “You’re here! Welcome home!”

“Oof, thanks Jester,” Beau said, recovering from having the wind knocked out of her somewhat. “It’s… it’s good to be here.”

“Let her breathe, Jess,” Fjord said as Jester relented. He gave Beau a hearty clap on the shoulder, saying “It’s good to have you here, Beau, c’mon in.” He then scooped up her duffles, with a little struggle, and carried them across the threshold.

“Ooh, the food literally just got here, Beau, it’s still super warm. Fjord and I didn’t really know what you wanted so we just got a bunch of different stuff to share. I should probably go get the plates and things set up, probably. Oh, Beau you’re totally going to love it here, I’m so excited!” Jester babbled, giving another quick hug and a tiny, excited noise before dashing through the doorway.

According to the floor plans, apartment 9B was bigger than the other three apartments on the floor. There was a kitchen space with a table that was certainly big enough for three and another living space with a sofa and a couple of armchairs. A sliding glass door opened to a small, bare terrace. That area of open space funneled into a hallway, which lead to two bedrooms, one much bigger than the other, and two bathrooms, each with a bath/shower. Beau followed Fjord as he placed her bags on the empty bed in the bigger room, which she assumed would be the one she would be sharing with Jester.

Though the entire room was covered head to toe in blue wallpaper, one half of it was completely bare and devoid of any furniture, except for a bed with plain white sheets and a nightstand table. This half, Beau’s half, was the closest to the bathroom door and right by the window with access to the fire escape. The whole arrangement couldn’t have worked out better.

The other half of the room was so, unmistakably Jester’s. The bed was covered in stuffed animals and fluffy pink throw pillows and blankets. Clothes were strewn in pilies on the floor spilling out of the dresser, on the bean bag chair, even dangling off the easel that was set up by the window. Jester’s artwork was taped on the walls, along with a series of printed photographs. On closer inspection, the majority of them were of her at different stages of life with a breathtakingly gorgeous woman, about middle aged, with curly dark auburn hair and deep tan skin, much darker than Jester’s, but covered in similar smattering of paler freckles. There were a bunch more with people Beau didn’t recognize, a good number with Fjord, and she even saw a handful of ones that with herself that she and Jester had taken freshman year. It made her heart catch in her chest.

“Sorry ‘bout the room, I know it’s a bit of a mess,” Fjord told her, leaning against the door frame as she looked around. “I told Jester to clean it before you got here, but all she did was push everything to one side, I’m afraid.”

Beau swallowed a lump in her throat she didn’t even know was there. “Don’t worry about it, man,” she told him. “I’ve got no complaints here.”

Promptly, Jester called them back to the kitchen for dinner, having set the table with three plates, three sets of silverware, and a small mountain of Zemnian take out. Beau hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the smell of warm, delicious food wafted through the apartment. She practically rushed to join Jester at the table behind Fjord, who made his way to the fridge.

“Y’all want anything to drink?” He asked them.

“Ooh, ooh, milk please!” Jester said, beginning to serve herself straight out of the plastic container.

“One milk, got it. Beau?”

“Uh, what do you have?”

“We got water, milk, a couple of beers, and not much else.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a beer then, thanks.”

Fjord returned to the table with two beers and a milk, passing them out as he sat down. He cracked his open against the side of the table, raised it to the air. Beau cracked her bottle open the same way and she Jester copied his gesture.

“Just thought I oughta’ make a little toast, it being our first night together and all.” Fjord said to the table before focusing his gaze on Beauregard. “Beau, welcome to the ninth floor, both Jester and I are more than glad to have you here with us.”

Jester let out a whoop. “Here, here,” she said, clinking her glass of milk against their bottles. “Welcome to the ninth floor!” She parroted, before taking a healthy sip.

Beau grinned wide behind her beer as she took a swig.

“Thanks, guys,” She said, still smiling as she dumped a couple heavy spoonfuls of some kind of minced Zemnian sausage on her plate. “It’s good to be home.”


	2. subways, signs, and strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb knows better than almost anyone that the first rule of survival is never staying in one place too long. But when it comes to the first rule of living, he has no idea where to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive my poor zemnian, it's the best i could do considering i don't know a word of german

The past four months in Zadash was the most stable Caleb Widogast’s life had been in years. That was, if you could call living out of a motel with a single suitcase, a therapy cat, and a sixteen year old high school drop-out with kleptomania and a possible drinking problem stable. Which, for Caleb at least, was a huge step up. ‘

It was never a good idea to stay in one place for too long. People began to recognize you, ask questions about you, and before you knew it, old police reports were uncovered and you were on the road again.

The more recent arrests for petty theft and burglary usually did the trick. But the juvenile charges of arson and murder in the second degree, even though they had been dismissed, certainly didn’t help.

So, it was by all accounts perplexing when Nott suggested one morning that maybe considering a more permanent place of residence would be as good idea, and even more so when Caleb found himself agreeing.

“I’m not saying forever, Caleb,” she told him, nervously spinning a jade bracelet around her wrist. “But things are better now. I’ve been working more, so I’ve gotten a lot more money saved up. I… I think this place could be good for us.” Nott looked up at him, with those wide, light hazel eyes that seemed much too big and eerily doll-like for the rest of her face. She wore a hesitant expression, trying to predict and gauge his reaction with a single, careful look. “It’s just something to consider, is all,” she reassured, backtracking a little. “I’m with you whatever you think is right.”

“ _Nein_ , I do not disagree.” Caleb quickly said, preventing Nott from working herself up over the matter anymore. “Staying here… It would be something different, yes? From what we usually do. The two of us, we would have found some sort of trouble by now, given our poor history.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Nott replied, twiddling with a loose string that hung off one of her fingerless gloves. “But, well, don’t you think it’s some kind of sign, or something? That we hadn’t had any problems yet?”

Caleb was silent. There were no such things as signs. The universe did not send signs, not to guide, not to warn, not to lead astray. It was people, not the cosmos, that made and strayed from their own paths. There was no use in considering something so foolish.

“There is no such thing as signs,” Caleb told Nott, after a moment or two. “But, _ja_ , we certainly seem to be having better luck here than in the past. I think you may be right about staying in the city a little longer. At least until that luck runs out. Okay?”

He gave her a small, encouraging smile, which she returned, flashing him a mouthful of crooked, yellowing teeth.

“Okay.” Nott responded, giving a nod. She broke eye contact and began rummaging around the motel room, nose deep in a backpack almost twice her size. Eventually, she pulled out two jars that, judging by the faded label, once held mayonnaise, but currently were filled almost to the brim with cash.

Nott placed them on the ground, one next to the other, and Caleb squatted down to get a better look. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Ones, fives, tens, twenties, even a few fifties were pressed against the clear plastic container. It wasn’t much to some perhaps, but Caleb couldn’t remember the last time he had seen this much money.

“Here,” Nott said. “This is everything I’ve collected, money-wise. Except… well, I keep the pennies in with my button collection because they’re similar shapes and I like to stack them on top of each other sometimes, but other than that…” She trailed off, looking right at Caleb. “It’s probably almost enough to get us started here, right? Ooh, maybe if I keep collecting, we can think about getting a little place of our own. Wouldn’t that be nice, Caleb?” Her voice was higher now, like it always got when she was excited.

She didn’t say a word as she waited for him to respond, but her every thought was written on her round, ruddy face.

_I had to hock a lot of my trinkets at the pawn shop to get all this, but it was worth it._

_It’s not much, I know, but it’s more than we’ve ever had._

_I hope you’re proud of me, Caleb, and I hope you give this a chance._

_Please._

For a while, Caleb did nothing but looked at the mayonaise jars in awe. “Nott…” He began, after a period of silence. “This… this is a lot of money, you know that?”

She nodded. “Yes, I know that.”

“And you, you will be willing to share this with me?”

Nott looked confused. “Aren’t we a pair, you and I? Isn’t sharing money like this something we always do?”

“ _Ja_ , _ja_ , we are and it is, but I would understand if you wanted to keep some for yourself.” He reassured her. “It was you who collected it after all, I did not contribute a dime.”

Firmly, Nott shook her head, pushing a jar across the cheap motel rug to Caleb. “We’re in this together, Caleb. This is yours too now.”

He ignored the jar and put his hand on Nott’s shoulder, boney even through her thick hoodie. “We are in this together, _meine Freundin,_ ” Caleb repeated, gazing right at her. “And we will stay here indefinitely, if that is what you want.”

“I want whatever will make you happy, Caleb.” Nott replied, meeting his gaze and matching his intensity. She brought a hand across her chest to clutch his tight. Her spindly fingers were cold even through the glove. “You and I-- we’ve been struggling a long time. We deserve a little bit of happiness for ourselves, now, don’t you think?”

Caleb was a shit person. There was a lot of good things that happened to him that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve the second chance at the rehabilitation center. He didn’t deserve the dismissal of his criminal charges. He didn’t deserve the sickly, fourteen year old girl who bailed him out of jail. And most of all, he didn’t deserve the loyal, brave friend she had grown into. He had tried to tell her everything, to make her understand why he was entitled to none of her care or respect, but she hadn’t listened. It only reaffirmed whatever blind notion she had that Caleb was worth the full extent of her time and amity.

“I…” He began, struggling to find the right words. He didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t lie to himself or to Nott. But a break from the cons and the swindles, that would be nice. “I think it would make for a pleasant change.” Caleb told her, smiling a little.

Nott smiled back, toothy and wide.

“I think so too.”

\---

Caleb was an intelligent enough man to know that living, actually living, in a city like Zadash was not easy.

Income, of course, was the biggest obstacle. Nott, who was nothing if not scrappy and resourceful, worked a handful of minimum wage jobs at a time, in additional to being a full time pickpocket. Caleb, on the other hand, was less successful in that field. He had been working as an assistant at Chastity’s Nook, an adult bookstore uptown, but was laid off when his former boss took a leave of absence to focus on writing her own novel. That was about a week ago, and Caleb knew he needed to find another occupation as soon as possible.

What would be an acceptable employment option for a mentally ill, thirty-three year old ex-convict with a master’s degree in theoretical physics? 

> **Nott:** have you checked university positions? maybe they’re hiring for the next school year
> 
> **Caleb:** I do not think such a highly regarded institute of knowledge has any interest in hiring someone with a criminal record.
> 
> **Nott:** expunged!! expunged record!!
> 
> **Caleb:** Not all of it.
> 
> **Nott:** don’t sell yourself short like that caleb
> 
> **Nott:** you have a brilliant mind
> 
> **Nott:** just look! i can cover your subway fare if you promise me you’ll look

Slim as the chance was, Caleb was honestly more likely to find a job there than he was to win this argument with Nott. So, taking her up on her promise, he bought himself a crosstown train ticket and made his way to the western part of Zadash.

It was midday, so there was significantly less passengers in the tram car. Caleb was certainly thankful of that; being crammed inside a crowded metal tin full of strangers in the heat of summer was a far less pleasant alternative. He watched as an auburn haired girl, probably in her early twenties, carrying a guitar case got off at the Pentamarket. An elderly couple took the next stop, cheerly talking to themselves about how nice it was to finally get out of the house. It was nice to see people going _to_ places, seeing perfect strangers simply going about their day activities. There was time where Caleb would just ride the subway aimlessly all day and night, just to have a warm place to stay. Not anymore. He had a destination now too.

His car was empty when suddenly, the sliding door connecting the compartments opened and a young woman stormed through in a huff. Caleb watched as she collapsed on the row of seats across from him, releasing an irritated puff of breath.

He must have had some reaction to her display because she spoke up, in a gravelly voice.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” The woman told him, without really sounding all that sorry. “Some lunatic back there was advertising his performance art piece. I had to get outta there.”

“ _Kien Problem_ ,” Caleb replied, “All is good.”

The woman nodded in reply and promptly put in a pair of earbuds, closing her eyes. It was then he finally got a good luck at her. She wore in a strange mix of clothes that varied from businesslike to downright ratty. Her jeans were ripped at the knees and she looked to be wearing a workout tank top beneath an expensive, royal blue blazer top. Her dark brown hair was cut in an undercut and was tied in a long braid that reached her upper back. She was slim and of wiry form, with tawny skin, and well defined bone structure. She was an attractive young woman, Caleb decided, though certainly not his type.

However, the most intriguing thing about her was not her clothes or her general appearance, but the employee identification that hung on a lanyard around her neck.

**_The Archive of the Cobalt Soul_ **

_Beauregard Lionett_

_Library Assistant_

“Excuse me, miss,” Caleb said, raising his voice slightly to get her attention. No response. He could hear rock music faintly through her headphones in the otherwise silent car. “Beauregard?” He tried again, a little louder and more insistent this time.

Bright blue eyes shot open. The young woman, Beauregard, looked at him with an expression of pure displeasure as she pointedly took out her earbuds. “What do you want?” She asked irritably. “And how do you know my name?”

Caleb gesturing at the lanyard hanging from her neck. “Ah, your tag.” He said, resuming his normal tone.

“Oh.” Beauregard replied, looking down where he was pointing. “What do you want?”

Caleb took a breath. It was either a stroke of dumb luck or a terrible mistake to ask a stranger on a train for a job recommendation. He was about to find out.

“I saw that you are working for the Cobalt Soul. I am headed there as we speak.”

“Um, okay?”  

“How do you like working there?”

“It’s fine, I guess?” Beauregard said slowly. She was looking at Caleb with a degree of confusion and mistrust, not taking her eyes off of him.

“ _Ja_ , that is good. I hear the Archive works closely with the university here, is that correct?” He asked her. He hated this. He was probably scaring the woman. Hell, he would be scared if some random, homeless person came up to him on the subway and started asking him personal questions about his line of work.

“It is.” Beauregard answered, as if she were waiting for him to get to the point.

“ _Gut, gut_ ,” Caleb said, nodding to himself. “I was just curious because I myself am interested in a position there as well. Do you know, perchance, if they are hiring at the moment?”

Beauregard shrugged. “Maybe? A lot of people are only working summer temp jobs so yeah, they might need people to take those slots.” She still looked a little wary as she continued: “But that’s only like, low level positions. You have to do a whole training seminar for anything administrative.”

“Of course.” Caleb replied. “And would you know who I could talk to to inquire about such a thing?”

“I know a couple people.” Beauregard said. She jutted her chin in his direction. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, Caleb, Caleb Widogast.” He told her, reaching to shake her hand. “I apologize for not introducing myself to you before.”

Beauregard shrugged again. “Don’t worry about it. You new to Zadash?”

“Yes, my friend and I have been living here for the past four months.”

“Gotcha.”

There was a moment of silence, both of them unsure what to say next. Caleb reached into his pocket and fiddled with his lucky rock for something to do in the interim. The subway shifted and bumped as it hummed along the tracks.

It was Beauregard who spoke up finally. “But yeah, I can introduce you to a couple of people if you want. No guarantees though. They’re kinda dicks sometimes.”

Caleb smiled at that a little. “I would appreciate that very much, _Danke._ ” This… this was going better than expected. Perhaps Nott had been right in pushing him out after all.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Beauregard said. She stood up as the train slowed to a rickety stop, wrapping her headphones around her phone and slipping it into her blazer pocket. “This is us,” she said, motioning at the screen near the ceiling of the tram that read, _Interstead Sprawl, Next Stop: King’s Hall_. “You coming?”

Caleb nodded, standing up and dusting off his coat a bit. “Lead the way.” He said, and followed Beauregard out the sliding subway doors, onto the crowded platform and up to the fresh summer air of the heart of the city.

\---

The Archive of the Cobal Soul was a tall building, the top of which curved into a dome, with all kinds of current and lost languages inscripted into the structure’s concrete wall. Attached, were three smaller wings not nearly as tall that bore the same writing in their stonework. Lots of people, tourists and locals alike, were gathered on the front steps and walking along the adjacent sidewalk, taking their time to appreciate the sight in front of them. A small number of them were entering and exiting through the main drag. Caleb supposed some people favored spending a lovely summer day outdoors to being cooped in a library. He could see the appeal, despite adamantly disagreeing with their logic.

Beauregard led him up the stone steps to a smaller door next to the visitor’s entrance, drawing a plastic card from her wallet and flashing it against a sensor for entry. Caleb looked around a the interior, a little in awe. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls from the floors to the impossibly high ceilings. Staircases and corridors peeled off the lobby area, undoubtedly leading to more library and exhibit space. It had been quite some time since Caleb had been in such a vast center of knowledge. But the feeling of being in a space like this, full of heavy tombs and minds at work, as intangible as it was, filled Caleb with the best kind of nostalgia.

“This is incredible.” He said, half to Beauregard and half to himself, trying to look everywhere at once.

She chuckled a little bit. “It sure is something,” she replied. “C’mon, I’ll take you to Jennah’s office. I’m pretty sure she’s the right person to talk to.”

Caleb followed Beauregard towards the back of the room, past the reception and information desks to a roped off area with a sign that read: _Authorized Personnel Only: please have identification ready_. She handed one of the two security guards stationed there that same plastic card, gesturing at Caleb with a simple “He’s with me,” before the pair of them were good to continue on.

“Wait here,” Beauregard told him once they were about halfway through a hallway of what looked to be administrative offices. Caleb nodded, watch as she knocked on a door and disappeared behind it for a few minutes. When she remembered, she was joined by a regal looking middle aged woman with long, pale blonde hair. She wore little to no makeup at all, showing off how well she had aged despite the streaks of silver at her temples. Caleb immediately extended his hand to shake hers. He mentally kicked himself for not having put on his good pair of pants today, realizing how dissolved he must look.

“Jennah, this is Caleb Wid-- Window? Wido-- Wido-something,” Beau tried, introducing them as Jennah shook his hand back. “I met him on the train here. He wants a job. Caleb, this is Jennah, she’s an archivist here and does a bunch of HR stuff too.”

“Widogast, Caleb Widogast,” Caleb corrected, “It is good to meet you.”

“You as well, Caleb Widogast,” Jennah replied. Caleb was suddenly very self conscious of his strong Zemnian accent after hearing how flawlessly Jennah spoke in the common tongue. “As I’m sure you know, the Cobalt Soul is not usually so… lax, shall we say, with employment and other administrative matters.” She explained. “But, Beauregard happened to catch me at a free moment, so here we are. If you would be so kind as to have a seat in my office, we can begin to discuss whatever it is you came here for. Speaking of you, Beauregard, Dairon informed us that she will not be available today and has instructed you to work Tubo in the basement collections today.”

Caleb had no idea what any of that meant but judging by Beauregard’s groan of displeasure, it was less that positive news.

“Now, Mr. Widogast, shall we?” Jennah asked, holding the office door open for him.

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said, taking a step forward to the threshold before turning back to make eye contact with Beauregard. “Um, thank you very much, Beauregard.” He told her, simply, unsure of what else to say. How does one thank a perfect stranger for something like this?

A pair of eyes, almost the same shade as his own, looked back at him. “Don’t worry about it,” Beauregard said, nonchalantly. “It’s not like this took me out of my way or anything. It’s really not that big a deal.” Caleb just nodded, holding back a reply.

 _It is to me,_ he wanted to tell her. _I live in a motel room. Before that, I lived in another motel room, and another before that. I made money pedding erotic fiction to bored housewives when I wasn’t pulling off elaborate cons just have enough coin to buy bread._ _I do not expect a girl like you, who is so dismissive of opportunities like these to understand. But do not for a second believe that this is “not that big a deal”._

Caleb was silent as Beauregard bid a quick goodbye to Jennah and watched the young woman from the subway car retreat back down the hallway towards the security checkpoint. Towards the shelves of books containing mountains of knowledge she would never know how lucky she was to have access to. He watched until Beauregard was just a blip of blue among a sea of other employees clad in cobalt.

He turned back to Jennah, who waiting patiently with laced fingers.

“Shall we begin?”

\---

It was late afternoon when Caleb was on a subway back to the Outersteads. The car was a lot busier this time of day, full of commuters headed back home right before the rush hour crowd. He snagged a corner seat at the back of the tram near the sliding doors and pulled out his phone to send a quick message to Nott letting her know he was coming home.

> **Caleb:** Hello. I am on the train home now. I met with a member of the human resources department at the Cobalt Soul to inquire about a possible job opening and I am scheduled for a official interview next week.

Seconds later, he got a response.

> **Nott:** that’s perfect for you caleb!! there’s so many books there and it’s full of scholarly types and people almost as smart as you are
> 
> **Nott:** i’m very proud of you
> 
> **Nott:** and good news: the kitchen got one of my delivery orders wrong and because they were going to throw it out anyway they let me take it home! no jerky for dinner tonight

Caleb smiled a little bit. Perhaps it was not so wrong to have a little bit of happiness, even for someone like himself. 

> **Caleb:** That is good news indeed. It has been a good day for us both.

Further down the car, Caleb heard a much too cheerful voice above the din of the other passengers.

“... Thank you very much sir, and I do hope you consider stopping by next week. The rest of the crew, and myself of course, have been hard at work crafting a work of art to beguile the mind and shock the senses like you’ve never seen before. Your patronage is greatly appreciated, every little bit counts, I assure you. For no cause is more noble than boarding our narrow, narrow worldview through ensuring the arts have a place in this community…”   

In spite of himself, he smiled a little wider. Bless the faceless lunatic advertising his ridiculous performance art piece. If he wasn’t so insistent and irritating as to make a young woman change subway compartments, Caleb’s entire day could have gone very different. He put his hand in his coat pocket, fiddling with his lucky stone and leaned back against the wall of the tram, feeling heavy vibrations as it rattled along the track.

There was no such thing as signs. But Caleb was inclined to believe that this lunatic, still berating commuters just trying to go about their business on public transportation, certainly was as good an omen as anything.

**Author's Note:**

> for organization's sake/in case people want to jump around, i'll include of a list of which chapter is written in which character's pov right here:  
> \- chapter one (welcome to the mighty nine): beau's pov  
> \- chapter two (subways, signs, and strangers): caleb's pov
> 
> find me on tumblr @technicolortidepods, if you feel so inclined


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